


Safe From Harm

by alienchrist



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Blood, Dark Magic, M/M, Mutilation, Underage Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1954209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/pseuds/alienchrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Day 1 of Jearmin Week - Protect.</p>
<p>Popular boy Jean and nerdy Armin are left behind while Mikasa the Vampire Slayer goes after the Big Bad with the rest of her crew and the town teeters on the brink of apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe From Harm

**Author's Note:**

> The song referenced: [Massive Attack - Safe From Harm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKtTmZnVhhI)

It's been about seven months since Jean made the dire mistake of wandering into the high school library. Jean Kirschtein, well-known Popular Kid, fashion plate, star of the tennis team and all-around desirable, had fallen for the new girl and her cold, distant ways. He followed Mikasa Ackerman into the library the night of the Halloween dance and witnessed some major vampire slayage. Erwin, The World's Worst Librarian, tried to play it off as some kind of Halloween prank, but Eren and Armin were so bad at lying even someone as notoriously dense as Jean knew he was lying. As if to seal the deal, another vampire tried to kill him on his way out.

Somehow, over the course of the last few months, Jean's managed to become friends with two of the biggest nerds in the school, Armin and Eren, though not in the kind of way that makes him want to admit that in front of anyone. Mikasa is as distant and unattainable as ever, making pretty damn clear she doesn't have time for boys or bullshit, and Jean's pretty much okay with that. He's fine if he has the chance to save her ass while she saves the world now and then. After Marco died during that _thing_ around Christmas, and Mikasa very nearly did, Jean started to realize that he might be just a little bit on the selfish side.

But he still tries to avoid getting sucked into that Weird Shit That Happens To Mikasa as much as possible. Unlike Mikasa, he actually cares about being seen with Armin and Eren. Besides, he's got his C+ average to think about if he wants to get into a party school, and his mom nags when he stays out too late.

It's been ten days since the latest round of Weird Shit That Happens To Mikasa has failed to dematerialize like it's supposed to. Ten days since someone summoned a giant-skinless-demon-generally-threatening-guy from the sky and flattened the high school. Ten days since that cult used the chaos to take over the town. Three days since Erwin took Mikasa to do some Slayer thing that only Slayers could do, with Eren in tow because not even Erwin could keep him away. Two days since Armin showed up at Jean's house with a satchel full of occult books saying, "They left me behind. They're not supposed to leave me behind." One day since Armin crawled into his bed and stayed there, face pressed to Jean's shoulder. One day since Jean stayed up all night, pondering the dampness on his T-shirt.

Weird shit. Jean's still trying to get used to it. He could swear it never happened until Mikasa and her little posse showed up, but Erwin insists it's the other way around, and Mikasa's only here because this is where the weird shit is going down. Every time Jean thinks he has his head around the situation, even weirder shit happens. Like Armin practicing spells in his living room and pretending it's not a big deal to just climb into bed with your buddy when there's a perfectly good guest room.

Though he doesn't expect a dial tone, Jean picks up the phone on his desk, using the rotary to dial one of the only numbers he knows by heart. He can't stop thinking about all the times one of the Weird Shit Trio gave him a lecture, a threat, a punch or a dirty look about how he always complains about his mom. Now he can't get the phone to work, much less place a long distance call to his grandma's place, even just to tell them he's still alive. His mom always worries when he doesn't call.

He is rewarded by the sound of silence. Hello darkness, my old friend. Jean slams the phone back into the receiver, and decides to pester Armin downstairs. Armin is in the kitchen and clearly thinks Jean can't hear him, because he's singing. His singing voice is clear and pleasant.

_"What happened to the niceties of my childhood days? Well I don't know nothing 'bout that, no no, but if you hurt what's mine, I'll sure as hell retaliate..."_

"Hey, Armin," Jean calls rudely from the door. Armin's paused over a piece of bread with a peanut-butter covered knife trying to pretend he wasn't just singing about murder.

"Jean," Armin says, like he's surprised to see Jean in his own house.

"You're a weird kid, Arlert."

"Please call me by my first name when you're disparaging me."

"So, Armin, why the hell are you in my house again?"

"I know your wards are strong and trustworthy. I know you're... well, when you're motivated, you're strong. And you don't have any particular reason to betray me to the cultists." Armin picks at a ball of lint on his Goodwill sweater vest. Jean's offered to take him and Eren to buy real clothes (Mikasa seems to know how to dress herself except for that scarf), but they've always refused him. They wear their poor people clothes like some kind of weird badge of honor. "I need to get supplies from the magic store for the spell I've been building, one that might seal off the city from more summonings, but I'll need someone to watch my back. If we go during the day, we'll have the cult to contend with, but it'll be safer than risking it with all the vamps running amok at night."

"What the hell kind of 15-year-old says 'running amok'?"

"One that's been fighting vampires since he was a little kid?" Armin says almost apologetically. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"I'm not going to fight humans. Vamps are one thing, what with the blood sucking and the general stink of decay that I can never get out of my shoes, but I'm not going to kill a person. That's not who I am."

"I'm not asking you to kill anyone. I just need you to watch my back, and help me find a way out if the cultists get the drop on us."

Armin is looking at row of sandwiches. In the end, he'll have four. He is not looking at Jean. This bothers Jean, but it might bother him if Armin were looking at him with those stupid, moony eyes of his, too. Jean watches Armin slap a piece of bread on top of each sandwich. They're just white bread and peanut butter. Is this how poor people eat all the time?

"Fine," Jean says, "But don't make me regret this."

"I think if you want to live a life without regrets, you should probably stop saying things that sound like you're asking for trouble," Armin said, taking a bite out of a sandwich.

Jean reaches for one of the sandwiches. Armin smacks his hand away. "Make your own food, jackass."

Jean almost makes a petulant remark but thinks of his mother, round and smiling in the kitchen as she mixed cookie dough. _"I saw that boy Armin helping out at the library today. He's so skinny! I wonder if his grandfather doesn't have much money for food, feeding three growing teenagers. Ah-ah-ah! Don't touch, you'll get salmonella."_

He wishes he could call his mom, just to tell her everything's okay even if it's not. Is any news even reaching the outside world about what's happening in town these days?

With a stubborn frown, Jean stalks over to the fridge, leaning in. "You want some milk or OJ? And there's cookies in that jar over there, help yourself."

"Why Jean," Armin says, mouth half-full. "In the flattering light of the refrigerator, you almost look as if you care."

 

Later that night, Armin climbs into bed with him again. This time, he stretches out on his back. Jean's bed is queen-sized, so they're not even touching.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Jean mutters. "What if I slept in my underwear?"

"You wouldn't," Armin said. "You have too much shame."

"It bothers me that you've thought about this."

"That's what I do," Armin says, reaching up to examine the black silhouette of his fingers against the ceiling. "I think about things."

"That's kind of the opposite of what I do."

"That's not true and you know it. You think you can fool people, but you can't fool me."

Jean can see Armin's profile in the dark. The light through the blinds makes sharp stripes across his face, but his skin still seems soft, his nose upturned. Just when Jean thinks he should probably look away, Armin turns onto his side. The bed suddenly seems a lot smaller.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Jean repeats.

"I'll leave if you don't want me here."

"No, it's okay. I just don't get it."

"The darkness disturbs me."

"C'mon, really? You're one of the smartest, bravest, most mature people I know. And you've been crawling around in crypts and sewers since you were what, eleven? You can't be scared of the dark."

Jean can hear Armin's smile. "You really think I'm brave and mature?"

"I notice you're not second-guessing you're smart."

Armin laughs. "I'm not second-guessing you think I'm smart." He sits up, hugging his knees to his chest. "It's not the actual darkness I'm afraid of. When it comes to things like shadows, I'm less worried about them than perhaps I should be. I just hate it when I can't make out the form of things.

"You're safe here, though," Jean says, and it's almost like he hears himself saying it because _he can't believe he's saying this shit_. "The house is warded, remember? You and Erwin did it. Nothing will happen when you're here with me. Now go to sleep. We're getting up at ass o'clock tomorrow."

"Can I just--" Armin leans down and their faces are too close, noses bumping. Armin places a hand on Jean's cheek and moves his face and they're kissing. Wet lips, a taste of mint with a weird hint of peanut butter and orange juice. It's nice, though he kind of wish Armin had actually asked permission instead of just kind of going for it. Though it's sobering to think he might've said _yes_ if Armin asked.

"Sorry," Armin says. He sounds embarrassed, but apparently not enough to leave the bed. He rolls over onto his side again, back facing Jean.

Jean decides to ask stupid question. "Why did you do that?"

"You seemed like you needed it."

"You're the one who's upset," Jean says hotly, though he's not sure why he's so annoyed. He hunkers down into the bed, and, after a long moment of consideration, wraps an arm around Armin's waist, pulling him closer. Armin settles in, and after some shifting, they're more or less perfectly spooned.

And Jean's got a half stack just from one kiss and pushing against Armin's butt.

"Don't read into that."

"I promise I'm not reading anything anywhere," Armin says, but Jean detects that pleased sort of sarcasm he gets in his voice when he's about to win an argument completely.

"I'm not gay," Jean says, and he thinks he should change his name to Ridiculous Kirschtein, because this cannot be happening in his life. He is not telling the class nerd he is not gay while cuddling him and trying to ignore his stiffie. This is Bizzaro World, now with 110% questioning your sexuality. "Are you?"

"That seems like something we could worry a little bit more about when we're not teetering on the brink of apocalypse," Armin says drowsily.

"Because, uh, it's okay if you are. This is the 90s, people should be able to do whatever they want."

"Has anyone ever told you you're really naive?"

"Only you, but you usually use bigger words than that."

Armin sort of chuckles, just one quiet "ha" under his breath. "Go to sleep."

" _Now?_ "

"Want me to sing you a lullaby?"

Jean almost says something really stupid, like no or fuck no or _yes and why not give me a sequined dress and a pair of tap shoes_. He thinks about the giant skinless monster that crushed the school, and Mikasa going through hell armed with a stake, and his mom by the telephone, worrying. Jean makes one of the best decisions of his life in deciding not to say something shitty. It's kind of a revelation that he doesn't have to. He is quiet a moment and then says, "I'd like that."

_"Midnight ronkers, city slickers, gunmen and maniacs, all will feature on the freak show, and I can't do nothin' bout that, no no, but if you hurt what's mine, I'll sure as hell retaliate... You can free the world, you can free my mind, just so long as my baby's safe from harm tonight..."_

 

Sometimes, Jean hates how Armin never has the good sense to be scared shitless, and instead shares information no one needs at bad moments. They're walking the streets, hoods up, hoping against hope that any cultists they meet won't ask too many questions.

"You know, now that I think about it, it's weird that we haven't seen the that creature since he first appeared and crushed the school. I wonder if whoever summoned him could only keep him in our reality for a few minutes."

They're halfway back to the house, arms full of crystals and jars of wiggling things Jean would rather not think about. The sun these days is headache-inducing, casting an awful pale green light that can't even make a stud like Jean look good. He stops to admire his hair in the window of a mini-mart, scowling at Armin's reflection behind him. The air smells like rotten eggs. Armin says that's brimstone from the summoning, but Jean's pretty sure it's just demon farts.

"Or maybe he's wearing a human skin somewhere, like your creepy pal Eren."

"Lay off Eren," Armin says automatically, an absent reflex, like brushing a fly off his shoulder. "I know you don't trust Mikasa's and my opinion, but Erwin would kill him in a second if he thought he was a threat. He's on our side. He's always been on our side."

"Like I care about what World's Worst Librarian thinks."

"You might have a point, though. But we haven't had any new students or transfers, which means whoever did this has been planning this for awhile." Armin pushes his hair out of his face, then pats at it, dissatisfied. "Hey, this reminds me - I need to grab something here."

"What? No, I can't - We shouldn't -"

"I'll only be a second."

Armin places his hand over the door knob of the mini mart and whispers something. There's a kind of glow and the smell of hot metal, and the door flies open.

"Do Mikasa and Eren know you can do that? Does Erwin?"

"Watch the door, okay?" Armin is looking way too pleased with himself. He darts into the store, the door slamming right behind him.

"Damn it," Jean says to no one in particular. When he tries to open the door, he finds the knob too hot touch. "Fuck!"

Two men and a woman dressed in black robes and hoods approach. Even though they're alive and walking during the day there's a definite vampire goth quality to them. Mikasa says most of the vampires who are super into the 'lifestyle' don't live long, being so inflexible in their image. She usually does this while looking at Erwin's bolo tie.

"Are you coming to hear our leader speak?" the woman asks him. Jean really wishes he weren't carrying a jar with a severed demonic whatsit in midday in the street.

"Soon," Jean says weakly, "Just making some deliveries."

"You must go now, the Goddess Maria speaks through him today."

"Yeah, well, I've never been one for going places, or listening to things."

A fight ensues: He does well. When the woman draws a gun, he gets it out of her hand and turns it on her.

"Kill me, then," she says, "So I may become a part of the great Walls."

Jean cannot kill her. She is creepy, she smells awful and she's probably the reason everything's gone to shit lately, but he can't kill her.

There's a crack and a sharp pain at the back of his skull. Jean thinks, _I forgot the other two_ and the pavement rises up to meet his face.

 

Jean awakens dark warehouse somewhere. If there's one thing this town has an abundance of, aside from the undead, it's creepy warehouses. They never seemed to be filled with anything but bad guys, poor lighting and mildew smells. It bothers him a lot, the presence of so many empty warehouses. He never would have noticed if Armin hadn't pointed it out to him once, but it's hard evidence of how much demonic, vampiric, and generally Satanic activity runs this town.

The cult has captured him, he is tied to a chair. The leader of the cult is - _surprise!_ a vampire in a priest's frock.

"Where is the Slayer and her demon pet?" The vampire's a fairly old one, bald and warty with pointed ears. His mouth is full of sharp teeth. It's hard to feel threatened when someone's lisping around a mouth full of deformed chompers, but Jean knows he should very much feel threatened.

"I don't know," Jean said, suddenly wishing he hadn't slept through drama class, and never asked Armin how to be a really convincing liar. "I'm just a kid in high school."

"What were you doing outside without your Wallist regalia, then? You do not wear the three rings!"

"I forgot them all at home?"

"So you are one of us, then?" the vampire asks gleefully, wiggling his filthy claws.

"Y...es?"

"Get his shirt off and begin the ritual," the vampire says, "We need the blood of a virgin, this loser saves us popping out to get one."

"Hey," Jean said, "On several counts, _hey_."

 

By the time they're done with Jean, they don't need to tie him up anymore. Jean drifts in and out of consciousness on his stomach in the center of the warehouse. His back stopped hurting hours ago, and that's what worries him. He can feel the blood crusting there, and he is so tired.

An angel appears to him, warm colors in the darkness. Blond hair, blue eyes, crouching to press a water bottle to his lips. "Drink," Armin says quietly. "I'm so sorry. The shopkeeper was one of their cronies too, I had to fight her off, and then I had to try and find you..."

"Wall Maria, Wall Rose, Wall Sina," Jean mutters.

"Are those what those three rings symbolize? Three walls? But what are they protecting? Or are they keeping something out...?"

It hurts too much to speak. 

"I'm so sorry," Armin says, smearing his hands in the blood on Jean's back, even yanking up the gooey bits that have started to seal to get more. He quickly draws a circle around them with the blood, looking grim. 

"Intruders!" Jean recognizes the voice of the leader of the cult.

"You!" Armin snarls in a way Jean's never heard. "You carved him up! Why? What are those three rings?"

"Those are the Walls," the vampire says reasonably, "You'll be thankful for them in the end. Well, not you specifically, since you're going to die."

The vampire lunges at them.

Jean knows jack shit about magic. But he's pretty sure a barrier simply made from a bit of blood on the ground shouldn't be powerful enough to stop an ancient vampire in his tracks. And yet that's exactly what it does. Armin stakes the thing through the heart.

"Do Mikasa and Eren know you can do that?" Jean whispers, struggling to his feet. "Was that... I thought you're not supposed to do that kind of stuff, not with blood, not with _my_ blood!"

"I had limited options," Armin says, and his eyes look very, very dark. "And I won't be useless." He does not help Jean stand. "Close your eyes."

Jean does not close his eyes.

The rest of the cult stands staring at Armin, dumbfounded, until someone yells, "He killed the holiest of our men!"

"I am sorry for your loss. Now..."

Armin seems to grow taller, his pupils going so large the blue can no longer be seen. His voice, nothing like the sweet tenor that lulled Jean to sleep last night, seems to come from all around, deep and rough like rocks scrabbling deep in the Earth. " _Leave this place and never return. Never oppose me, or the Slayer, ever again._ "

One by one the robed figures shuffle away, not unlike a plague of overly diffident zombies. As the last one shuffled out of the warehouse door, Armin shrinks back into himself, his eyes returning to normal. Only now does he place his arm around Jean's hip, careful of the new wounds his back sports.

"I rescued you and killed their leader, and that destroyed their morale and they disbanded on their own."

Jean sniffs Armin's hair. It smells like blood and brimstone, and a little like flowery shampoo. Somehow, it strikes him as cute. And scary.

"I really shouldn't want to make out with you right now," Jean says, "Especially since I could faint from the blood loss at any second."

"No, you really shouldn't," Armin says, tilting up his chin.

Their mouths meet so quickly and artlessly their teeth clack against each other. There is frantic desperation in the way Armin seeks to push in and dominate, but Jean's (relatively) superior expertise and height soon win out. It is wrong, how it is sensuous and delicious and wet and needy. Both know this, electrified by a spark they keep passing to each other, unable to distance their mouths enough to stop completing the current.

In the end they are gasping, dizzied, foreheads touching after a few moments of the best kissing either of them have done in their short lives.

"We can't ever tell them," Armin says, and doesn't have to specify who.

"No," Jean says, taking Armin's hand and squeezing it.

"You didn't watch me when I did that influence spell, did you?" Armin asks, brow creasing.

"No."

"Okay," Armin sighs in relief, "Let's get you home."

 

Armin cleans Jean's wounds with the gentle, expert care of someone who's spent his formative years in the silent battlefield between good and evil. "You're lucky you don't need stitches, but I'm worried about these scarring," Armin admits, "Three unbroken circles are a powerful symbol. I hope Erwin can tell us more about it."

"Yeah, because there's no way he won't just tell us to try and find it in his billions of ancient books."

Armin snorts quietly, humming, _"Just so long as my baby's safe from harm tonight..."_ as he tapes on the gauze.

"Armin?" Jean interrupts, unusually polite.

"Hmm? Sit up straight."

It hurts like a bitch, but Jean tries to comply. "What did you need to get from the drug store that badly?"

"I'll show you when we're done."

Jean tried to imagine what else Armin could possibly need. He didn't see any new first aid supplies among his house kit. Most anything Armin could get at a drug store he could borrow from Jean's house with little effort.

Armin pulls out a loaf of white bread and a jar of peanut butter from his satchel.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Jean says.

"No, no, this was just to replace what I ate! Where is it..."

After rooting around, Armin produces a small yellow box from the bottom of his satchel.

Condoms.

"Protection! You know, just in case."

"I repeat my prior expression of disbelief," Jean says. "And I told you I'm not gay."

"I never asked if you were gay."

He's got Jean there. "Jumbo-size, though? I'm flattered you think so, but it's not that big."

Armin gazes at Jean, stone faced.

"...Speak for yourself."

**Author's Note:**

> I know Isayama said Mikasa's the one who sings, but Inoue Marina has such a nice voice I like to think of Armin singing. And this song has been going through my head for this couple for a long time...
> 
> I had no particular reason for thinking of this AU, except I was thinking "very nineties". And I wanted Armin to cast a spell. I don't think this is very good, I wrote it pretty much all in one go, but thank you for reading!


End file.
